


the ship in port is the safer one

by softhan



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode AU: s03e07 Digestivo, M/M, Melancholy, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:47:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22792729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softhan/pseuds/softhan
Summary: Will expects that Hannibal will go back on the run, and leave him a new trail of bloody breadcrumbs to follow. He doesn’t intend to look for them.He doesn’t expect the knock on his door a few days later—even if Hannibal did stay in the area, the idea of him being that direct would never have occurred to Will. But there he is, still battered and bruised. He looks almost worse than the last time Will saw him, like he hasn’t slept. Like he walked there from miles away.Things go a little differently at Muskrat farms
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 32
Kudos: 237





	the ship in port is the safer one

**Author's Note:**

> This grew out of the prompt "would Will save Hannibal if their roles were reversed in Digestivo?" Basic setup is that Will saved Hannibal in the sense that he stopped Cordell from stealing his face but didn't take Hannibal with him when he left the farm; Chiyoh found him and got him somewhere safe to recover. You can read my [detailed explanation](https://queerhannibal.tumblr.com/post/190900207661/if-hannibal-and-wills-roles-were-reversed-in) of that bit if you want (this fic is also cross-posted there)
> 
> title is from The Ship in Port by Radical Face

Will expects that Hannibal will go back on the run, and leave him a new trail of bloody breadcrumbs to follow. He doesn’t intend to look for them.

He doesn’t expect the knock on his door a few days later—even if Hannibal did stay in the area, the idea of him being that direct would never have occurred to Will. But there he is, still battered and bruised. He looks almost worse than the last time Will saw him, like he hasn’t slept. Like he walked there from miles away. 

There’s a moment where Will considers shutting the door in his face. It really would only be fair. But he finds himself stepping back, opening it further to let Hannibal in and then shutting it behind him. The dogs are back home, and they cluster around, sniffing at the newcomer before Will orders them back to their beds with a sharp sound and a gesture. 

He stares at Hannibal. Hannibal’s eyes are roving over his face like he’s trying to memorize it again. Neither of them has said anything. Eventually Hannibal sways on his feet, and Will catches his shoulder, not caring if it was probably an act. Hannibal all but falls forward into him, clutching at Will like his life depends on it. 

Will wouldn’t have been surprised to feel the sharp stab of a knife, but there isn’t one. Just Hannibal wrapped as tightly around him as he can get, face buried in Will’s neck. Will’s arms come up around him as more a reflex than a conscious decision, and he feels wetness on his neck as Hannibal’s body shudders with a sob

It’s been a hell of a week, in as literal a sense as that phrase has ever been meant, and Will has been one good hug away from a breakdown himself since he saw Hannibal in front of the Botticelli. Maybe since he woke up in the hospital and Abigail was dead and Hannibal was gone. He’s not surprised when his own breath shakes and tears well in his own eyes. He leans into Hannibal and holds him tighter until they’ve cried themselves out, and then a little longer than that, and then he pulls Hannibal over to sit on the edge of the bed with him, shoulders touching, bracing each other.

“They’re watching my house,” he says.

“There is one man watching the driveway in a van,” Hannibal says, voice a little deeper and rougher than Will is used to. “Jack didn’t believe I would come to see you directly. Your ‘guard’ will believe he fell asleep at his post when he wakes in a few hours, and will tell no one for fear of losing his job.”

“You didn’t kill him?”

“I had hope that you would not inform Jack that I had been here. Killing him would have been difficult to explain.”

Will lets out a breath through his nose. “Why are you here?”

Hannibal’s face goes tight, and his lip trembles. “I couldn’t leave you again, Will. I—”

“Don’t,” Will says. He takes a deep breath, and it shakes more than he’d like it to. “Not right now.”

“Will I have another chance?” Hannibal counters. 

Will looks down at his hands, twisted together in his lap. He sees Hannibal’s in his peripheral vision, shifting aimlessly on his thighs. “I don’t know.”

Hannibal sighs, and it sounds shaky too. “I don’t want to leave you.”

“I don’t want you to go,” Will says, before he can stop himself. He bites his lip, hard. “I’m so tired of all of this. I’m so tired.” He shakes his head a little. “I’ve missed you so much I thought I might die of it, but I can’t keep doing this.”

Hannibal’s hand twitches toward him before settling on his own thigh, squeezing so hard his knuckles go white. “I thought I was going to die,” he says slowly. “And the only thing that made me afraid was the thought that you were going to die too, and there was nothing I could do about it. That I was helpless to save you is what caused me alarm.”

_You tried to kill me yourself the day before_ , Will thinks. He doesn’t say it. They both know it’s true, and it doesn’t change the fact that Hannibal is being honest. Both truths hang between them, incompatible and not incompatible at all. Will reaches over and covers Hannibal’s hand with his own, carefully prying his fingers out of their grip on his thigh. Hannibal turns his hand over and grasps Will’s fingers just as tightly. 

“You can’t stay here,” Will says finally. “If that young man is honest, he’ll call Jack and they’ll search for you. He doesn’t entirely trust me where you’re concerned.”

“Should he?”

Will’s lip quirks up just a little. “Probably not.”

“You’re right that I can’t stay. Which means the time has come for you to decide what it is that you want.” Hannibal’s gaze burns into the side of Will’s head.

“What can I have? What are my options?” Will finally looks back up at him. “I want to come with you. I wanted it then. But I can’t do that if it’s just going to be like this.”

It’s Hannibal’s turn to look down at their hands. “Can I ask you to clarify what aspect of ‘this’ it is that you cannot tolerate?”

“I can’t live in fear of you gutting me and sawing my head open,” Will says bitterly. “If we’re going to do this we can’t keep hurting each other like this.” His voice softens. “I am so tired, Hannibal. I can’t keep fighting you.”

“Alright,” Hannibal says, stroking his thumb across the back of Will’s hand. “That is not as difficult a request as you seem to imagine, Will. I want you alive and well and with me. I know that now with certainty.”

Will laughs a little, to keep himself from crying again. “Wish you’d figured it out before.”

He’s not sure what he expected, but it wasn’t Hannibal’s quiet, “Me too.”

There’s nothing to say to that. They sit in silence for another little while, Hannibal’s thumb rubbing gentle circles into Will’s skin, until Will sighs again and says, “Let’s go.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Again this is also [on tumblr](https://queerhannibal.tumblr.com/post/190900207661/if-hannibal-and-wills-roles-were-reversed-in) if you wanna reblog it (and I am also on tumblr at [queerhannibal](https://queerhannibal.tumblr.com) if you wanna follow me)
> 
> I _might_ continue this or go back and actually write the first part of it if there's interest? comments are love as always. Thank you for reading!!


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